Miles Away
by Marmite-1
Summary: This is going to be one of those typical stories where a girl travels through time and falls in love with her saviour. This is the story about how a girl broke out of a hospital, hitched a ride and ended up being flung into a history and time she had only read about. -Warning: mentions of eating disorders.
1. Chapter One

This is going to be one of those typical stories where a girl travels through time and falls in love with her saviour. This is the story about how a girl broke out of a hospital, hitched a ride and ended up being flung into a history and time she had only read about.


	2. Skinny Love

You're probably thinking 'well, what makes this story any different than someone else's?'.

The difference is that this really did happen. Mia really did get flung, quite literally, into a different time. Mia really did fall at the feet of her saviour (although at first he was not too trusting).

Where to start? I guess, no better place to start than at the very beginning.

Mia drummed her fingers on the table. The food glaring at her. Well, that's what it felt like. Food was not one of Mia's friends, and it was something she battled with every single day. She picked up her knife and fork, glancing up quickly at her 'mentor'.

Sally smiled, "Come on Mia, remember you can't leave the table until you've eaten everything".

The thing is, eating wasn't the issue. Mia could eat and eat and eat, but the problem was trying to actually keep the food down. She wasn't a glutton for punishment, but the thought of a whole lot of food sitting in her stomach terrified her.

At 21, Mia wasn't at the best place. She had been struggling with Bulimia since she was about 16. Funny that her name was Mia and her illness was Bulimia. Mia rolled her eyes, and took a bite of a piece of potato. She could feel the oiliness of the food coating her mouth, making her feel ill. Mia was quite strict with the food she allowed herself to eat. No sugar, salt and absolutely no oil. Fat _had_ to be cut off every piece of meat before she'd even attempt to eat it.

To be honest, Mia was stuck. She was stuck in a giant hole, terrified to try to climb out, scared of what might be on the other-side. She had had the company of monsters for so long that she had forgotten what it was like to be confident.

This dark, damp seeming 'hospital' was awful. So many skeletons surrounded her. Lifeless eyes peering out of hollowed out faces. And what terrified herself even more was that when she looked in the mirror, she saw the exact same image peering back at her.

Unfortunately, after eating, Mia had to stay in the dining area for at least an hour so that she wouldn't be able to bring her food up.


	3. Rehab

Two months later, Mia felt like she was an 'old hand' at being in the hospital. She wandered the corridors, visiting the elderly patients from time to time. One of her favourites was this old man called 'Wild Bill'. He scared her at first, but his honest nature called to her. He had several friends who would visit, and she'd quietly sit in the corner and listen to their stories. She wasn't sure how true they all were, but it sounded like they had been through some pretty interesting things together. Apparently, they were war heroes.

One day Mia had gone to Wild Bill's room to have a chat.

"Girl, you've got to put some meat on your bones. You're going round giving people heart-attacks with your skeletor like appearance", he said to her.

"It's too hard," Mia shot back, "it's like my brain is telling me that if I eat I need to throw it back up. It's hard to explain, but it feels like I constantly have this voice in my head telling me I'm not good enough, and that to be better I have to just...you know".

"No, what is hard is seeing your friends being killed in front of you. Or not having food at all and having to survive off birds. You need to look at food like it's helping you. You need to go out and live your life, instead of slowly dying in this hospital", Bill answered.

"I just...I've been like this for so long, it's like my brain is refusing to let me change. I want to get better, I really do. But...I don't know. I tried to talk to so many people about this before I was admitted, but people didn't believe me. So I just kept going, and I couldn't stop!" Mia whispered, her hands shaking in her lap.

Mia hadn't really talked like this to anyone. Not even her psychologist at the hospital. Bill had this way of getting you to talk. Maybe it was his honesty making you feel like you could be totally honest back.

Three months later:

Mia had been talking to Bill for a while now. She felt a lot better about herself. It's strange how the support of one person could make everything so much better. Mia wasn't completely cured, and there were certainly times when she felt like binging and purging, but she was in a much better place.

However, one fateful day, as Mia was making her way to Wild Bill's room, she noticed a certain quite-ness around the place. Everything seemed dull, like everyone was moving through molasses. She felt her stomach drop.

As she rounded the corner and went to enter the room he was usually in, she saw that the room had changed. Gone were the cards, the photos and his belongings. A nurse was making his bed, and as Mia looked closer, she noticed a certain sadness lingering around her mouth and eyes.

"Mia?" the nurse said softly, "I'm really sorry to tell you this but Bill has gone".

"You mean, like he has gone home?" Mia questioned hopefully.

The nurse's eyes looked down, and then up at Mia, quickly showing her the answer that she really did not want to receive.

She turned, and ran out the room. Tears flying from the corner of her eyes, she rushed to the lift. Hitting the button over and over again as her breath got shorter and shorter. As she made her way down to her level, she made a choice. A choice that changed the course of her life.

She thought about Bill's last words to her, encouraging her to get better and live her life.


	4. Runaway

Mia plotted her escape to the last minute detail. She drew up plans and timetables. She paid attention to detail and thought out every aspect.

Since Mia was 21, she didn't really need to escape. She was perfectly within her rights to sign herself out of the hospital. But escaping seemed so much more dramatic. And let's be honest, who doesn't like a bit of drama?

At midday on a Tuesday, Mia picked up her handbag, and walked towards the exit of the hospital. She travelled down the stairways, as she didn't particularly feel like bumping into any doctors or nurses. Mia finally made it to the exit and stood in the sweet, sweet summer sun. She tilted her head back and let the sun catch her face. It had been a while since she had been outside.

She then shook her head, and took a step. Another step and another, until she was a block away from the hospital. She kept walking and walking, feeling the freedom of being away from everything. Enjoying the feeling of not being watched over 24-7.

As she walked, she remembered that she only had her credit card on her. She stopped at a machine and got some money out, hoping a taxi would come along so that she could get a ride to a hotel she had booked into. Mia was going to go to the country for a bit.

Finally she saw a free taxi and flagged it down. "Charleston Hotel in Aldbourne, please" she said to the driver.

He laughed "You've gotta be jokin' love. That's miles away!"

"I know," she sighed, "but could you take me at least halfway there?"

"Alright love," he muttered.

And off they went. He dropped her off at a little trainstation in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately a train wouldn't be along for quite a while, so she looked out to the road to see if there were any cars coming. Perhaps she could hitch a ride.

She looked at the sky. A little rainy, she mused. But what's new? She queried. This is England afterall.

Just as it started to rain, a little car puttered up to her. A nice looking young man sat in the driver's seat, he smiled and asked if she was looking for a lift.

Thankfully he was heading to Aldbourne and would be able to drop her off at the hotel.

After an hour of driving, the rain got worse and worse. Headlights on bright, window-wipers going as quickly as they possibly could, the car drove on, battling it's way through the weather.

"Shit," Andrew (the driver) said, as a dark shape ran across the road. The car swerved and skidded on the road, crumpling as it crashed into a field.

It was a funny feeling flying through the air. The sudden sharp pain, of the glass, a weightless feeling as she soared rather birdlike, and then a thud. Her leg cracking painfully, wind being expelled out of her lungs as she hit the ground, and then the bump of her head. She felt like she was melting away, darkness rushing up to meet her, a flash of bright light, and she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

My head was pounding, my whole body aching as pins and needles raced through my arms and legs. The last thing I remember was flying through the air and landing on the ground, my broken body slowly fading away. I blinked my eyes, once, twice, checking to make sure I could see. It felt almost like I was floating, the pain in my head was so intense it almost cancelled out the feeling in the rest of my body. I flexed my fingers and toes, checking to make sure my body was responsive still. As I flexed the toes on my right foot, my leg erupted in agony. I remembered a crunching as I landed, and knew that my leg was broken, or fractured.

I felt like I could lie there for a long time, just sinking into the mud, but the chill got to me. As I looked around, I noticed that I was in the middle of nowhere. The long grass swayed in the slight breeze, and grey clouds swept across the sky. Slowly, but surely, I dragged myself into an upright position, wincing as pain sung through my leg. It was mottled and bruised looking. Swollen up and gross. My sandal looked too small for my foot, and I undid it, breathing a sigh of relief as it took some pressure off my leg.

I needed to move if I wanted to survive. Funny thing, how a few months ago I wouldn't have cared if I faded away….whereas now I have an intense need to survive.  
As I stood, I felt like I would faint from the pain racing up and down my body. I dusted myself off, frowning at my mustard mini-skirt, which had dried mud on it. Despite flying through the windscreen of the car, there was not a spot of blood on me. I hobbled over to a strategically placed pile of branches and grabbed two of a similar length. They would do for walking sticks. I'd be hobbling along like an old lady soon enough.

As I dragged myself across the field, I noticed the sky getting darker. Night was approaching. I needed to find some form of life or shelter before it got dark, however, I knew that that was wishful thinking. As I walked or rather hobbled along, I kept telling myself that I'd just keep going. A positive mindset is very important. Says I, a recovering bulimic.

Soon enough I started to sing. I went through all of the nursery rhymes and songs that I knew. The landscape started to blur into one another, nothing looked different. I thought that I'd be able to find a pathway, but there was nothing there. Even the road I'd been on when I was in the car was gone. I proceeded on and on and on until I saw some flickering lights in the distance. The vague sound of voices could be heard, being carried in the wind. Struggling through the mud, I hopped, my crutches starting to prove to be a hindrance as they kept sinking into the soft soil. I didn't realise how difficult crutches could be. The last of my strength was failing me, but I needed to get there. I needed to get into the shelter. And, I hated to say this but I was really, really hungry.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I reached the town. A pub, where the most noise was coming from, was the first port of call. No, not for a drink, but hopefully I'd be able to use the phone to call for an ambulance. This is ridiculous, just getting out of the hospital and ending back in one. I decided to leave my sorry excuse for crutches outside. To be totally honest, I decided to leave them because I felt like a right plonker waltzing in with them. I pushed the door open with all my might and swing through, not expecting the doors to be that light. As I hopped in, I grabbed the tables to help me stay upright.

I'd like to say all the music, voices and laughter stopped as I staggered in. You know, like in the western movies when an outsider walks into a saloon? Tumbleweed drifting along the road and all conversations come to a stop. Yeah, well that didn't happen. It was almost like people didn't notice me. There were a few sideways glances, but most of the people just ignored me. There must have been some sort of reenactment going on, as a lot of the people were in WWII style uniform. As I drew closer to the bar, a group of young men intercepted me.

"Look what the cat dragged in!", one man jeered, his alcohol tainted breath taking over my senses.

"Erm, excuse me," I muttered, "I'd just like to get through thanks". My hair dripped water on the floor, as I looked away, feeling somewhat threatened. As I went to push past him, he grabbed my arm, his hand gripping hard surely leaving bruises. I stood there, breathless, as he asked what my problem was.

"You!", I hissed in his face, pulling my arm out of his grip, with surprising strength.

He stumbled back, surprise etched on his face, as his buddies laughed at him. His face, red in the dim light, grew angry, as he snarled "Bitch, die in a hole".

"How very dare you!" I gasped, as my hand rose up to rest on my breastbone.

AN: I know how unrealistic it is that she is able to go that long distance with a broken leg, but this is a story. It is just supposed to be a fun story.


End file.
